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. "I
learned my lesson," Raistlin said bitterly, drawing a rasping,
shuddering breath. "I have trimmed my ambition. No longer will I
strive to be a god. I will be content with the world." Smiling
sardonically, he patted Palin's hand. "We will be content with the
world, I should say."
"I-" The words caught in Palin's throat. He was dazed with
confusion and fear and a wild rush of excitement. Glancing back at
the Portal, however, he felt the shadow cover his heart. "But, the
Queen? Shouldn't we shut it?"
Raistlin shook his head. "No, apprentice."
"No?" Palin looked at him in alarm.
"No. This will be my gift to her, to prove my loyalty-admittance
to the world. And the world will be her gift to me. Here she will
rule and I ... I will serve." Raistlin bit the words with his sharp
teeth, his lips parted in a tight, mirthless grin. Sensing the hatred
and the anger surging through the frail body, Pa-lin
shuddered.
Raistlin glanced at him. "Squeamish, nephew?" He
sneered, letting loose of Palin's arm. "The squeamish do not
rise to power-"
"You told me to speak the truth," Palin said, shrinking
away from Raistlin, relieved that the burning touch was
gone, yet longing-somehow-to gain it back. "And I will.
I'm frightened! For us both! I know I am weak-" He
bowed his head.
"No, nephew," said Raistlin softly. "Not weak. Just
young. And you will always be afraid. I will teach you to
master your fear, to use its strength
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